


Double or Nothing (Winner Takes All)

by lezzerlee



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Begging, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Edgeplay, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-02
Updated: 2011-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezzerlee/pseuds/lezzerlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's ass is such a winner.</p><p>For <a href="http://cherrybina.livejournal.com/239684.html">Inception Kinkfest 2.0</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Double or Nothing (Winner Takes All)

“Just tell me if it’s too much, yeah? Tap out, two two.” 

Arthur nods frantically, leaning back against Eames’ bare chest to mouth awkwardly at his throat. His sweat-slick skin slides against Eames’, simultaneously slippery and sticky. He’s only able to murmur incoherently at this point, shivering from over-stimulation. His cock hangs heavily in front of him, weighted by a leather ring, and drips precome onto the bleached sheets.

They’re pressed together, both on their knees. Arthur kisses Eames, searching for something, anything Eames will give him as Eames runs calloused fingers up his side. He dances them over Arthur’s ribs before circling them around the reddened buds of his nipples. He’s been teasing Arthur all night, bringing him to the edge of orgasm time and again, only to pull away, leaving Arthur’s cock bouncing, his muscles twitching as they strain beneath his pale skin.

Eames breaks the kiss by grabbing Arthur by the hair. He forces him to look forward, nearly tipping him off balance, only keeping Arthur upright with his other hand on Arthur’s hip. “You want this, don’t you Arthur? You are such a little slut. You want him, both of us, stretching you out, filling you up...”

Arthur looks across the room to the man seated in a chair. He’s stroking himself languidly, staring at them like he has been all night, silently watching as Eames worked Arthur over, stretched him wide and open and loose. He stared, not uttering a word as Arthur begged and Eames licked into his asshole, wet, sloppy. He stared as Arthur moaned, broken, hoarse as he fucked himself on Eames’ thick cock.

Now, the man stands; he moves towards the bed, silent still, but a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His eyes twinkle with want, with feral desire, as his hands finally touches Arthur’s skin, pressing into Arthur’s taut abdomen and playing over the muscle. Arthur sucks in a breath, nearly sobbing when the man finally speaks.

“That’s right, I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”

He latches on to Arthur’s neck, sucking at the tendon, biting into tender flesh. His cock rubs intermittently against Arthur’s own, poking at his hips when they push forward in halted thrusts. Eames holds Arthur in place, hand still wrapped in his hair, cock pressed against the crack of Arthur’s ass. 

Arthur’s ass slick with lube and spit, Eames moves his hand from Arthur’s hip, allowing the other man to hold Arthur upright. His hand snakes between Arthur’s thighs, stroking up through the lubrication to tease at Arthur’s needy hole. Arthur has already been fucked, already been stretched, and he has the overwhelming need to be filled again. His pucker flexes out, opening to Eames’ touch. Eames slides a finger inside. It’s not enough.

“Tell me you want it,” Eames growls in his ear. The finger inside him slips out only to be replaced by two.

“Please,” Arthur sobs. The other man laughs against his neck. One of his hands has moved from Arthur’s body to stroke at his cock again. Each slide bumps the knuckles of his hand against Arthur’s dick.

“Why don’t we take this off,” Eames says. His fingers release their hold on Arthur’s hair and reach around to his front. They unsnap the cock-ring carefully. The relief is nearly instantaneous, blood flowing through his dick, his balls. He nearly comes on the spot, only withholding by sheer force of will, knowing Eames would be displeased.

Eames soothes him with his words. “Good boy. That’s right, I know you want to come, but not yet. You have to hold it. A little longer, just a little longer.”

Arthur keens when the other man’s fingers stroke over his testicles, rolling the skin between his fingers. It’s too much, too soon after the ring’s removal. He has the split second urge to tap, two quick successions of fingertips to Eames’ skin. Eames grabs the man’s wrist, digging his fingers into the bones and growling menacingly, “not yet.” The man, to his credit, doesn’t flinch; he only nods, waiting for Eames to release him. Eames continues, “okay, Arthur, it’s okay. You’re doing so well. Now Ryan here, he’s not going to touch you until I tell him to. Do you trust me? Do you trust me to know when you’re ready?”

Arthur nods again, swallowing thickly, willing his hands to relax, to rub along Eames’ thigh instead of digging his nails in. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Eames pets his hair and his other hand returns to Arthur’s asshole, circling around lightly. Arthur didn’t realize Eames fingers had slipped out, too shocked by Ryan’s careless groping. But Eames slips inside him again and Arthur sighs, pushing back against the touch.    
  
After a while of Eames quietly breathing into Arthur’s ear, fingers massaging, he replaces his fingers with his cock. The transition is nearly seamless, out with the pull of fingers, in with press of cock. Arthur hums with pleasure, revelling in the feel of Eames inside him. He feels whole. 

“Okay, Ryan,” Eames says. “You may touch now.” Eames rolls his hips forward a few times, slowly, gently, before addressing Arthur. “Don’t come, darling,” he whispers as a reminder.

Ryan’s hands are smaller, with longer fingers than Eames’ when he wraps a hand around Arthur’s cock. After a few strokes he switches, sidling up closer to grip his own cock as well as Arthur’s between his hands. Arthur’s precome slicks them, along with the lube that had transferred when Ryan ran hands up the inside of Arthur’s legs. The hardness of Ryan’s cock gliding over his own is glorious, but not enough. Arthur whines with need. He wants to come. He needs to come. His balls ache, his mouth is dry, and his muscles are sore.

Eames shifts his weight, canting his hips back and taking Arthur with him. Without slipping out, he lowers himself to the bed first, sitting with Arthur straddled over his lap. Then he lays back. He pulls Arthur to lie back flat against his chest, wrapping an arm around his middle.

“That’s right, relax,” Eames says. “We’re going take care of you. We’re going to give you what you need.”

Arthur does relax into it. He reaches his hands up to grip at Eames’ hair. He stretches his body out, elbows angled as wings and his stomach flat, barely concave in the area between his ribcage and pelvis. Ryan presses a kiss to the protrusion of Arthur’s hipbone. His lips travel along the skin of Arthur’s pelvis until he’s nuzzling Arthur’s cock with the side of his stubble-covered jaw. Then Ryan licks up along the shaft, circling around the tip before swallowing Arthur down to the base.

Arthur’s hips thrust up into the heat of Ryan’s mouth, seeking the pressure, the suction, and the press of tongue. The action pulls him up Eames’ cock, and he pushes back down, unable to decide which is better. The drag of Ryan’s tongue has him muttering “Oh … oh … oh,” uncontrollably. Ryan smiles around his cock. He pops off, spit trailing momentarily before breaking to fall back to Arthur’s skin. 

“Oh you are a pretty one,” Ryan chuckles as he takes in the view of Arthur shivering in Eames’ arms. Arthur hears Eames laugh in response. Ryan’s next comment is not unkind, despite the language; he sounds awestruck. “I’m going to open you up, whore. You’re going to beg for us.”

Arthur’s feet are planted on the bed and he’s bobbing up and down on Eames’ cock. His own cock bounces on his stomach. He couldn’t stop the movements if he wanted to, desperately trying to find the perfect friction.. Ryan grabs him forcefully by the ankles, tipping his legs up. The position drives Eames’ cock deeper, which is delicious, but Arthur can’t move himself any more, is helpless now as he wiggles on top of Eames. 

Ryan settles between his legs, grabbing a condom from the side table and ripping the package open. He rolls the latex over his length then grabs the lube, pouring it carelessly over where Eames is buried inside of Arthur. When Ryan recaps the bottle, he tosses it to the side. He presses a finger in and Arthur chokes, the pressure intensifying. He feels like he’s being stretched to the breaking point. Eames’ cock and Ryan’s finger are all he can focus on. 

Eames stills him with a firm hand pressed to his hip. The other holds over his shoulder, wrapped under his arm to pet his hair. Arthur can’t focus on what Eames is saying. It’s something calming, something encouraging, but it’s just nonsense in Arthur’s ears. After a while he feels himself relax enough that the stretch doesn’t burn. It feels nice. It feels full. It feels perfect.

Ryan adds a second finger, which increases the pressure again, but Arthur is ready. It’s still difficult, but he takes it, relaxing even more around the digit by bearing down. Ryan crooks his fingers, shifting them, pulling them in and out. He brushes over Arthur’s prostate easily, pushed onto it by Eames’ cock. Arthur yelps at the sensation. His cock leaps from his body, spasms and bounces and leaks.

Squeezing his eyes closed and gritting his teeth, Arthur tries his best not to come. Ryan removes his fingers before he can push Arthur over the edge. Then he moves between Arthur and Eames’ legs and lines his cock up with Arthur’s entrance. Eames is still holding Arthur in place against his body as Ryan starts to push in. 

He goes slowly, so slowly.   
  
The first press in is difficult. The head barely makes it in. Arthur has to bear down with everything he has, willing himself to relax more than he has the entire night to fit the rest. He’s lucky Eames worked him open so thoroughly earlier. Arthur is loose, but it’s still so much. Two wide cocks are fighting for place inside him. He feels full like he never has before.

The long moan Arthur was wailing cuts off with a gasp when Ryan is fully inside of Arthur’s stretched hole. Ryan’s thighs press to the back of both Arthur and Eames’ thighs, he stays still for a minute while Arthur adjusts. Eventually the urge to move overwhelms them all.

Eames starts first. He grabs Arthur’s butt, lifting just slightly so that he can thrust himself up off the bed. Arthur groans, his head tilted back over Eames’ shoulder, stretching his throat out and making it difficult to breathe. But he can’t lift his head; he barely has control of the rest of his body, and every ounce of his effort is going towards not coming. He can’t come. Eames hasn’t allowed it yet.

Arthur can feel Ryan and Eames’ cocks shift inside him. At first they drive in together, keeping the same rhythm, but then they begin to alternate, to work in tandem, sliding in and out of his body. The pace ramps up as Ryan gets into it. He thrusts into Arthur harder and harder, snapping his hips to slap against Arthur’s thighs. Eames also starts to move faster, his breath coming in hot puffs against Arthur’s hair. He only stops his continuous, filthy commentary to bite Arthur’s neck and lick along Arthur’s sweat-soaked skin. 

Arthur is begging, jumbled words and whimpered pleas. A few times he yelps as Ryan’s cock grazes his prostate. His cock aches with the need to come. It’s been so long: all night, hours and hours. The pulsing heat of cocks inside him is too much and he’s on the edge of losing all control. Arthur doesn’t want to let Eames down, but he doesn’t think he can take it anymore. 

Finally, something that makes sense breaks through Arthur’s frantic thoughts. His face is turned to Eames’ neck and he’s instinctively suckling Eames’ warm skin for comfort. He can feel the rumble of Eames’ gravelly voice vibrate under his lips.

“Come for me, darling,” Eames commands. Arthur hears those words out of all the rest. The wet smack of skin is a staccato soundtrack as Ryan drives home. Ryan is gasping as well; Arthur can tell he’s close too, but Arthur doesn’t care, all he cares about is the pressure in his balls and the fact that Eames has given him permission. Arthur comes, without touching his own cock, without Eames or Ryan touching it either. He comes from being opened wide and filled to the brim. He comes from the alternating slick slide of thick cock inside him. He comes from Eames’ breath in his ear, his words of praise.    
  
The world is a fuzzy, colorful cloud of bleary blurriness. Arthur doesn’t know how long he’s been out of it because he feels wrecked, spent. His stomach is wet and chilled and every muscle in his body aches with use. He feels open and raw, and is aware, helplessly so, of the come dripping out of him. Eames’ come.

“Oh, Arthur,” Eames purrs, leaning down to comb a hand through Arthur’s hair. “You did so well.” The door clicks shut as Ryan exits, leaving them alone in the room. Arthur smiles weakly, exhausted enough that it takes quite a bit of effort. “So good, my Arthur,” Eames whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [anatsuno](http://anatsuno.dreamwidth.org) for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own.  
> Also thank you to [unvarnishedtale](http://unvarnishedtale.livejournal.com) for the title!


End file.
